


Mafia Affairs of Dragons (Bits and Pieces)

by Kazi_kun



Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon, Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Darker Than Black, Final Fantasy XIII Series, Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Gen, Hotaru in Namimori, Mentions of Hojo's wondrous creativity, Mentions of other anime/games, Mostly my toying with ideas, One super brief sex scene, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Random story trails/idea, Timelines restarting, Unintentional shower peeping, getting stuff out of my head, relationships off-screen, seeing what worked best
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-28
Updated: 2020-04-28
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:40:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,471
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23889106
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kazi_kun/pseuds/Kazi_kun
Summary: These are literally ideas of a SM/KHR crossover I was toying with, various attempts to see what would work with the ideas I had. I promised Huinari on tumblr I'd post these so I could get opinions. Either way, PLEASE ENJOY
Comments: 2
Kudos: 1





	1. War of the Halved Rings I

**Author's Note:**

> Seriously, Each chapter is a random Idea I had. If it goes beyond one chapter, it will be marked accordingly, with "Part".
> 
> I don't know the exact chapters in which these ideas take place, so I'll add those later in the chapter titles when I figure it out. Where the ideas roughly take place, will currently be in place.

**_TICK…TICK…TICK…TICK…_ **

It was eerie as it was, seeing the _shock_ on Xanxus’s face as the sound drew closer. Tsuna turned his head to see the approaching teenage girl with black hair pulled into a ponytail. She had glasses over her eyes and dressed in jeans, a t-shirt over long sleeve thermal shirt, and sandals. She had a key chain hanging out of her small pocket and phone charms hanging out of the larger pocket below it, the two sets of objects tapping against one another.

“Ah, Hotaru-chan!” Tsuna partially exclaimed in surprise.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be late.” Hotaru apologized with a hand held in front of her face, her other hand in her back pocket. “My tutoring went over.”

“Not a problem.” Yamamoto assured with a grin. He jerked his thumb at the Varia. “We’ve got company. Interesting folks, aren’t they?”

Hotaru looked at Xanxus and the Varia, tilting her head to the left…an action that seemed to mean _quite_ a lot to Xanxus. “I dunno…they look kinda like those punks assaulting girls at that mall across town—y’know, those heavy metal guys with all the piercings and personality conflicts.”

“Oh, yeah—those guys you asked Gokudera to help you with.” Yamamoto grinned with a laugh. “Any of them try to hunt ya down?”

“Oh, yeah, yesterday…but they didn’t last long, naturally.” Hotaru smiled brightly with a wink. A rustling with a jingle got Hotaru attention to a girl in high slit short party dress. “….so, these guys escaped from a crappy night club? Or did they just pick up a few junkies and a couple hookers on their way here?”

Reborn looked at Hotaru as a couple of her friends snickered. “The way your mind operates, keeps astounding me.”

“Still?” Hotaru giggled softly at the nod she received. “Sooo, what’s going on?”

“Um…uh…” Tsuna muttered, trying to figure out what to tell her. Hotaru _always_ knew when he was lying and he _really_ didn’t want to her putting at him.

“We’re LARPing.” Reborn supplied, much to Tsuna’s surprise.

“Really?” Hotaru asked, looking interested. “You’re _all_ seriously Live Action Role Playing.”

That was _right_ ; Hotaru was _their_ age but she took University courses, and _craved_ a proper challenge. She played _tons_ of games from card games to video games and conquered thousands of people…and playing in the occasional cash game, gave her pocket money she was able use towards what she wanted, like books and supplies for projects. And some of those projects she sold for big bucks to continue the cycle.

“Y-yeah, we’re LARPing.” Tsuna said quickly. “Those-those guys are our rivals in this round.”

“Yeah?” Hotaru looked at Reborn who nodded. She sat on the ground and folded her legs into the lotus position without hesitation, like it was perfectly normal…well, the _sitting_ position _was_ normal. “Awesome! What’s the genre? The setup? The campaign theme? The line up?”

“The genre and theme is modern times, current era and Mafia, two candidate heirs with their 6 guardians each, are to fight to for the title of being the next boss of the Famiglia. The setup is personal weapons, such as Gokudera’s dynamite, Sasawada’s fists, and so on. And the lineup is in the order I mentioned to you earlier, when we discussed the rings and why they were halved.” Reborn explained, getting Hotaru to nod, leaning forward with her hands braced on the ground and her eyes sparkling behind her glasses. “The two young ladies up there, the ones wearing the masks will be acting as the judges for this session, and I’m afraid it _will_ be getting violent, bloody and _very_ volatile—which is why I extend the offer for you to bow out, as I know you’re very interested in this.”

“Do the others get to step away?” Hotaru inquired almost innocently.

“No, I’m afraid not. Tsuna would be the heir and the others would be his guardians.” Reborn replied as Hotaru straightened up and lightly hung onto her ankles.

“…then I’ll have to decline that offer, not to be rude. If they’re in this without having an exit option, then I won’t abandon them. Please, add me to their roster.” Hotaru met Reborn’s gaze levelly.

Reborn closed his eyes, apparently reluctant to accept. “Yes, all right. Now, can you _read_ Italian?”

“Yeah, there’s an area in the South Islands on Gaia that speaks a variant. Daddy insisted I learn it, since some of his people are from there. Learning Italian was like learning Japanese, just another regional variation.” Hotaru nodded, reminding Tsuna that her first language had been Northern Wutainese, her _mother’s_ natural language. “Is there some prop or documentation to go with this campaign?”

“There is.” Tsuna took his cue and passed Hotaru the sheet of paper…and she looked oddly at the dying will flame. “That’s the same kind of flame you’ve seen coming from Tsuna on occasion.”

“Oh, a Dying Will?” Hotaru earned a nod, though her eyes were on the paper as she read what was written on it. “…odd, why hasn’t anyone asked the previous bosses what _they_ think? Or do you not have actors for them?”

“Alas, they’re dead.” Reborn gave Iemitsu a look. Hotaru looked up from the letter.

“…then could you use a shaman to summon their spirits from Heaven or Hell?” Hotaru asked, surprising everyone—even the Varia. “I mean, I know a few. If I get the previous bosses’ names, then I can see if they can call them to this plain for a short while. Would that be acceptable with the judges?”

“I’ll go ask.” Iemitsu offered before strolling off.

Hotaru went back to the document. “…so this is from the previous boss?”

“The Ninth, yes.” Reborn nodded as Hotaru lightly worried her lower lip. “Is something the matter?”

“…yeah, but I’m not sure _what_ exactly…” Hotaru muttered. “Hey, Reborn—to satisfy my academic curiosity and my nagging woman’s intuition, could possibly ask you to bring this past my place later?”

“As I said before, how your mind works, continues to astound me.” Reborn replied with a small smile. “Now, it will be one on one—Xanxus verses Tsuna, as the rival heirs; Rain verses Rain, Cloud verses Cloud, and so on.”

“Just like I asked about?” Again, Reborn nodded, obviously proud of her intelligence. “Okay, um…what are the rules? What is allowed? What is prohibited? Armor, weapons, poisons…? Can we pair up or is it strictly one-on-one?”

“We’ll go over more after you’ve gotten some sleep. You’ve been up since early this morning.” Reborn gently patted her knee. “I would advise no play weapons, no faux armor and no restricting clothing. Make sure you don’t stand out and don’t weigh yourself down but don’t underestimate or pack too light; find that balance in preparation, just like with your projects and papers.”

“I understand.” Hotaru reassured getting to feet with ease. She took her phone out of her pocket to check it. “….yeesh, I have to get going. Let me know the details?”

“Of course.” Reborn assured.

“Right. See ya later.” Hotaru smiled. She then waved at the Varia. “It was nice meeting you!”

Squalo watched the black haired girl hurry away. “…that girl is _crazy_.”

Tsuna couldn’t have agreed _more_.

8-8-8-8

_“You’re worried about how this will affect your life now.” Reborn commented, sitting on Hotaru’s bed as she looked at a small phial, her back to the hitman._

_“I’m_ retired _, Reborn. I have been for a good number of years…besides, it’s the law.” Hotaru said, tucking the phial away before turning to the baby sipping a cup of tea. Around Hotaru’s right index finger was a silver ring with a black stone. “I_ have _my orders…and I know what’s going on here, is_ very _suspicious. There is no_ way _the Ninth would_ change _his decision about Tsunayoshi without informing me of it_ before _delivering the half rings. Something is most_ assuredly _up.”_

_“Will you stand by what you said around the others?” Iemitsu inquired from his spot on the floor. “I know you rarely say something you don’t intend to keep, but I’d like a little verbal reassurance.”_

_“The offer and refusal in front of witnesses, was just a formality. I had asked her if she was going to fight with us and she told me to ask again when the Varia arrived.” Reborn informed Tsuna’s father. “Furthermore, it was to cut the suspicion down. If she were to just suddenly be a contender, then it would reveal the truth and she has worked hard to remain hidden all these years. It would be a waste of effort.”_

_“My heart is with the Vongola Sky.”_

The Guardian of the Void—the abyss in which power is swallowed and contained until which it is needed to perform a miracle.

Hotaru held perfectly still for Jamie, letting him pull her hair back into a _very_ complicated bundle of the braids at the back of her head. He had already braided her beaded strands and bangs, tipping them with small fangs on hoops. Her feathers had already been replaced with the same ivory fangs. Her glasses had been replaced with round spectacles already. Her eyes were lined thickly and then shadowed for a haunted look, her lips glossed in a shimmery pale mauve rose. And she was already in her black dress, the black lace over the satin corset, poufy skirt and tight sleeves that were attached to the corset and covered half her palms—and her long legs were their sheer black hose under their black lace, her mid calf black leather boots laced up and buckled tight in place.

Her long nails were painted a solid pearl ivory with ghost designs in a scrawling French manicure, standing out against all the black covering her lap. A black ribbon was wound around her throat and a chain bearing an anchored fang…with a ring, a _very special_ ring strung right beside it. And she sat perfectly still, her eyes on the tailored coat and the pair of slender briefcases waiting for her by the curtain-covered door.

“…and you’re gonna look _gorgeous_!” Jamie hummed with delight, perfectly in his zone. Hotaru didn’t know _where_ Kato found this Canadian cosmetologist and _how_ he convinced him to be Hotaru’s personal Yakuza stylist…but for this instance, she was thankful.

“…I’m _retired_ …the Ninth _swore_ to me _any_ trace of ‘Dragoon’ would be _destroyed_ as though I never existed when I _left_ …and now…” Hotaru looked up at Kato. “ _How_ , Kato? How _could_ these bland little _nothings_ know about Dragoon of the Varia?”

“Unless the Varia told them.” Jamie offered, tucking a few more bobby pins into place.

“…Mammon would have taken care of that…” Hotaru mumbled softly. “…he promised me…”

“Then perhaps…” Kato’s eyes were on the necklace. Her hand covered the decorations and looked away.

Perhaps Xanxus had told them…but _why_ would he? She was the Void Guardian, that _alone_ would have forced her into the scramble…so why have his little hussy challenge Dragoon of the Varia?

Something was _definitely_ up about this.

“There! You’re _perfect_!” Jamie announced as he pulled his hands back to let Hotaru slip off the stool and onto her feet. Two of her men opened the briefcases and she collected the contents, retirement apparently not made her rusty. Another one of her men held her coat open for her and she let him help her into it properly, almost completely buttoning the front, hooking the sleeve loops over her thumbs, buckling the belt and drawing the hood over her head. A final man approached and buckled a pair of nasty looking claws of the backs of her wrists and hands.

“We will insure none of the others will interfere, Boss.” A young man, an obvious delinquent, assured with a shit eating grin on his face, a katana in his hand and a radio hooked to his waist, a cord traveling up under his shirt to his ear. “If any of ‘em try, they won’t be long for this world.”

“Keep Kato informed. I’ll be too busy to keep you out of trouble.” Hotaru earned a nod as the curtain and door were moved out of her way, Kato and the radio-armed delinquent following her out of the classroom. The men outside in the hall immediately surrounded them, moving in perfect unison, leaving the school building behind.

8-8

The Gardening Club was going to be in _shock_ over this…

The greenhouse had been enlarged and it looked like someone had ripped a rainforest up from where it was at, to put it in this mostly glass structure. There were paths here and there with rabbit trails leading off in random directions at various intervals. Big screens were already prepared and it was obvious that the spectators were to remain outside the chosen arena once again.

Tsuna worried about this coming match. Dragoon of the Varia...Reborn _said_ they could trust whoever it was, said they were Tsuna’s ally, said they were closer than he thought _and_ was a rarely chosen guardian…but Tsuna didn’t know _who_ it was. And that chick Bianca wasn’t here to challenge the Void Guardian, like the others.

Reborn had said the Void Ring had been complete when Dragoon received it a number of years prior to the scramble, as splitting it would not _only_ be dangerous, but _impossible_ as well. The Ninth had given it to Dragoon personally…and Dragoon had retired from the Varia, because of the Primo’s decree.

The Void could _not_ be Varia.

Tsuna hoped Reborn was right. He prayed Dragoon would be on their side.

8-8-8

“…a _third_ heir?” Xanxus growled, looking at Levi.

“A ‘Draco Vongola’ but no one knows what he looks like. He apparently went underground, approximately 8 years ago. He also has a special weapon, something called a Sky Cord.” Levi replied, earning a dark growl. Xanxus would have _another_ troublesome pest to deal with, another set of 7 when he was _so_ close…and a couple guardians of his own down.

“…what were his activities before he went underground?” Xanxus inquired darkly.

“There’s little knowledge about that…only that until recently, there were letters exchanged between him and the Ninth.” Levi earned a glare but he didn’t back down. “We haven’t been able to track down where they’ve come from…nor have we found them _period_ —however, they are _all_ signed with a small spurt of Sky flame. That’s all we know.”

Well, if _this_ pain in the ass was _his_ enemy, then he’d be _Sawada’s_ in turn. Perhaps it would be _worth_ to locate and rally this “Draco” into fighting Sawada and his guardians, whittle down the scum’s forces into nothing. Instigating in-fighting was something _she_ would do, to make her job easier…though her victims never knew it at the time. And he had taken _several_ pages from her book since she _left_.

Xanxus recognized the familiar engraving under his thumb and he looked down at his hand, realizing he had been running his thumb over _that ring_ again. The damned thing _barely_ fit on his pinky and he _refused_ to go _anywhere_ without it, to remind him of the _only_ course he had now.

_“…I’m sorry…”_

…God…he could _still_ feel her breath against his ear, her long fingers brushing his hair from his face, her lips touching his in a light kiss…all while he was _asleep_. If it hadn’t been for her _lipstick_ on his mouth when he woke up, Xanxus would have _sworn_ he had been _dreaming_ …and _that ring_ on his bedside table…

_I told them about you, Dragoon, to lure you out. I don’t_ care _if Bianca lives or dies; just as long as_ I’m _the one who gets to put that final bullet between your eyes myself._ Xanxus thought darkly to himself as Bianca hummed something off key and annoying while putting on yet _another_ thick layer of cheap makeup.

No, he didn’t _care_ about this slut. She wasn’t Varia material—would _never_ be Varia material. Dragoon had set the goddamned _bar_ of what a member of Varia _should_ be…and no _loose whore_ was _ever_ going to replace the irreplaceable. And when he became the Decimo, he’d have Dragoon at his feet once again— _just_ so he could put her out of his misery.

_“I’m sorry, Xanxus…Dragoon is with the Angels.”_

The _only_ Angel in Xanxus’ world had been _Dragoon_ …and Dragoon was _impossible_ to kill.

“Eh?! Kato?!”

“Hm?” Xanxus looked down at the ruckus that little piece of scum was causing. Where all those brutes and cheap suits came from, was the _least_ of Xanxus’s concerns…but that _girl_ from the other day wasn’t present. She had been _really_ interesting, being _so_ excited over a “game” and shouting at whichever Varia was fighting the other guardians, telling the judges to red card them and the like.

_She hadn’t attended any of the_ other _scrambles…so why would she attend_ this _one?_ Xanxus reasoned as one of the judges approached him, though kept a good distance away. “Yeah, what?”

“We’re ready for Bianca.”

The slut gave him a transparent grin and put her makeup away before following the judge away. Xanxus looked into the greenhouse from where he stood.

Had Dragoon already arrived?


	2. War of the Halved Rings II

An elaborate sigil formed itself under Xanxus and a warm green light shined from it, erasing his wounds and scars until all that remained was the traces of blood and heavy strain were all that remained. He looked at the sigil in shock and then towards an identical green glow near the school building itself. His eyes widened in surprise at the black haired beauty in a white Italian styled dress with an pale cream corset, Mary Jane shoes, hair ribbon and handbag hanging from a slender wrist. Her hands were held out in front of her with a smaller sigil slowly turning before them…and the green light seeped through her glasses, making her half open eyes shine.

“…no way…” Xanxus saw the delicate glass jewelry she wore…and saw the twisted stone that hung from a woven cord looped around one palm, the stone glowing with a Sky flame.

A woman in dark blue stepped out from behind her and looked at Xanxus. She gave him an unimpressed once over before she looked at the girl in white.

“So, _this_ is one of _us_?” The woman asked, jerking her thumb at Xanxus. “ _He’s_ your _Thunder_?”

“Are you _seriously_ going to start _that_ again?” The girl half snapped back, lowering her hands, the sigil fading anyway, as she shot the woman a pointed look. “First it’s my _Sekirei_ …and _now_ it’s my _Guardians_? _Honestly_ , Alphard—why the _hell_ do you start this shit when I need a clear head?”

The woman, Alphard, gave her a smile. “What can I say? Your ferocity’s hot.”

“…you’re _not_ sleeping in with me tonight.” Alphard looked surprised and then looked like she wanted to pout.

“Oh, now, that’s not fair.” Alphard muttered with an unhappy expression.

“…. _you’re_ Draco…?” Xanxus muttered in her shock, getting her to start...but that was…

She took the edges of the skirt and held it out, stepping forward just enough to _not_ hit Alphard. “…well, do you still think it suits me…? Or would blood be more appropriate…?”

“…Dragoon…the dress…” Xanxus didn’t notice the shock on the remaining Varia’s faces as they looked from him to the girl.

“She asked me to bring her a change of clothes after her match, since changing out of them while she was wounded and working through the poison, would have been dangerous.” Alphard replied off-handedly. “I had to steal the curling iron and hair brush from her metro-sexual hair dresser in order to get her to look right. This _is_ the way she would look, while off duty, isn’t it? I’ve only seen the hair style only once and in passing.”

Xanxus _somehow_ found the strength to get to his feet and he was suddenly in front of his white-clad Dragoon. It was only a breath before he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against his body, holding her tight against his body.

“…time compression’s a real bitch…it’s happened _twice_ since I left that night…” Dragoon murmured to him. “…is it _my_ fault you _changed_ so much…?”

“…to be honest…I don’t know…I truly…can’t remember…” Xanxus told her softly, closing his eyes and burying his lower face into the top of her head. “…God, Dragoon…I’ve _missed_ you…”

8-8

“Hotaru-chan…is Draco _and_ Dragoon?” Tsuna looked at Gokudera, who looked partially away.

“…Draco is the name of the still born child delivered a short number of years after the Second, to a Vongola daughter and a Sarto heir. To honor those of Vongola blood whom are heir to another family, as a default heir, should no other be selected…they are called ‘Draco Vongola’…” Gokudera explained softly, closing his eyes. “…her item is the Sky Pendulum…a spiritual item that reflects her distaste for continued bloodshed…word has it, it was confirmed that she lost her desire to kill…about the time Xanxus disrupted a private meeting between Iemitsu, the Ninth and her…and hugged her, scolding her that she should have told him she had returned…I don’t know much more than that…”

“The Void, dressed in white…it’s kind of ironic.” Chrome said softly with a smile. “But she does look very pretty.”

“It’s because she always wore _black_ when she was with the Varia.” Mammon said, watching them himself. “White was as far as from black as he could find…and seeing the jewelry, he had thought of her instantly. He told me that it reflected what he thought of her, as something beautiful, clean and delicate that needed to be cherished and protected…that is, until her final mission as Dragoon and the first time compression…it wasn’t too long after, his entire personality changed. For the Sarto guardians, he is her broken Heart.”

“Oh, yeah. The Sarto Famiglia have their own guardians. Her father’s are her uncle and the five Mighty Firsts, right?” Sasagawa earned a nod from Gokudera. “She’s the Crown, he’s her Heart…so who’s the woman?”

“…She’d be her Third-Eye, if I’m figuring this right.” Yamamoto muttered, giving it a bit of thought.


	3. Millefiore Base I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, Lordy--this one is LONG

_Man, it feels like I’m back at Central._ Hotaru thought, lightly tugging on a boot. “…geesh— _way_ too big…I’ll have to modify them, too…”

She took the boot off with a sigh and set it aside, next to a pair of pants and pieces of a belt. She reached over to a pile on the other side of her and pulled out a torn shirt…well, it had a good feel and she knew it was stained with blood…but honestly, _white_?

_...huh, must be different groups, like SOLDIER and the Turks._ Hotaru thought, looking over at a ravaged corpse in a white uniform. _And in this case, the losers in white are the Turks…not at_ all _used to getting their hands dirty._ Hotaru tossed the shirt onto the pants as she pulled a jacket to her, which would _clearly_ swamp her. _Let’s see what’s in the pockets, shall we…?_ _Huh, would ya look at that—a pack an’ another with only one or two missing—and a_ lighter _with a full tank…must be my lucky day._

Hotaru drew a cigarette from the open pack and lit it, before setting both packs and lighter aside to keep checking the jacket. She was rather impressed by the brand, and she’d have to remember it for later, considering it was pretty damn good quality. She found a pair of _dog tags_ with what looked like a class ring, that piqued her curiosity.

_…SOLDIER? Here on New Terra?_ Hotaru thought, narrowing her eyes through the hazy cloud of her smoke as she looked at the tags. _…well, the guy wasn’t much—being only a Third Class_ would _explain it…‘Granger’…that’s one of the AWOL punks from just before Banora…there wasn’t a trace of Darkness or Lifestream clinging to him…the coward must have just ran away._

Hotaru set the dog tags aside, to toss at Tseng or one of the Turks when they crossed paths. She tossed the jacket (after finding nothing else of real interest) on top of the shirt and pants. She continued to go through her pile, tapping the ash off her cigarette once or twice, and tossed what she couldn’t use (or didn’t want) aside, adding what she _could_ use with the rest of her pilfered things. And when she reached the bottom of her pile, she found a hip flask of some kind of spirit.

She took a tentative sip and immediately spat the crap moonshine out as soon as it hit her tongue. It wasn’t even…gross. Just _gross_.

What the _hell_ was _wrong_ with people and not following simple _chemistry instructions_?

…though, it _would_ come in handy if she ran into some kind of obstacle she couldn’t get through on her little lonesome.

Hotaru collected a pretty knife from her spoils…and looked at the previous owner, laying dead on his back under his long coat. She closed her eyes and made a silent promise to take _good_ care of his blade, in exchange for what he had done for her, despite them once being enemies.

She carefully cut her wrist as she held it over the open mouth of the hip flask. She watched her blood dribble into the flask, mixing with the disgusting alcohol, and then let her skin stitch back together without leaving a lasting mark. She wasn’t sure _where_ she was, _or_ what kind of machine she had been hooked up to behind those large mechanical doors, but she had a feeling that the _entire_ structure was like this room—just a literal _piece_ of a much _larger_ mechanism.

And she was going to take _control_ of this mechanism.

Hotaru screwed the cap back on and shook the flask to mix the liquor and her blood together as she rose to her feet and went to a nearby puddle of blood. She dipped a couple fingers into the crimson substance and moved over a step to begin drawing on a clear space of floor. And she was adding little details to the now obvious transmutation circle, when soft scuffing sounds attracted her attention to the bodies not too far from her current position.

…oh, right…the ones she had _bled_ on…huh. This was _definitely_ going to make things _so_ much _easier_ to conquer…and to _insure_ they’d be _obedient_ little lackeys…

Hotaru scratched the back of her hand and a few small octagonal tabs dropped to the floor. They were no bigger than an American dime and shared the same thickness, but were just a hair _lighter_ than the silver-looking coin. She scooped them off the floor and cast them towards the twitching bodies before she returned to finishing her diagram. And as she added the last details, she felt the dim extension of her own consciousness connect like a light switch.

“Don’t laze about. Hurry up and get on your feet.” Hotaru commanded over her shoulder, one of the black-clad men pulling himself in a sitting position like he was on strings. The corpse under the long black coat rose next, the coat spilling into his lap, and he looked over at Hotaru with a dim flicker of… _something_ in his eyes.

Ah, _he_ was going to be the _most_ useful of them all.

“Go rouse the SOLDIER.” Hotaru pointed towards Granger’s body. “Use one of the weaker ones, when you’re complete.”

He nodded limply once in agreement, rising to his feet as Hotaru snatched the boots and put them in the center of her diagram. She paid attention to the transmutation in front of her, the diagram alive and active beneath her hands, while there were roars and crackling energy muffling the sounds of crudely changing flesh and bone. When her transmutation stopped, Hotaru took one of the boots from the center and tried it on (finding it _perfect_ ) before removing it and looking over at the hunched generic Demoniacs and the crouched custom demoniac now in the corpses’ place.

The custom demoniac rose to its feet, standing upright to show off its navy skin, handsome kabuki-inspired metal face and bone-white armor, chest and abdomen. The gauntlets went up to its elbows with shields over his knuckles, the shoulder guards extended down its biceps, the grieves and knee guards nearly covered claw-decorated boots and a helm bearing twin blood red horns curving over the back of its head before sweeping outward, long thin cable-like strands spilling down its back. The visor cast over its eyes was _just_ the same translucent blood red as its horns _and_ the branched stone that sat in the center of its white chiseled torso.

Hotaru had to admit the bastard looked pretty damn good.

“Ten out of ten, Wei. You look good.” Hotaru complimented as the demoniacs eyes ignited in a flash, saying he was fully transformed. The glowing eyes moved around their sockets with minimal movements of his head before he looked to Hotaru, who was putting the shirt, pants and coat in the center of her diagram. “Would you do as I instructed please? We’re going to need a bruiser if we’re to move quickly.”

Behind her, Wei the Demoniac lifted its hands and uncurled its fingers.

“…I’m… _alive_ …”

Hotaru’s hands _stopped_ a hair from the diagram, the energy licking her palms before she pulled them away as she turned part way around.

“Did you just….?” Hotaru asked, pointing at the custom demoniac, who looked at her.

“…I _died_ …trying to keep between _you_ and…” Wei’s voice was more digital, but still the same…well, if not a bit roughened from the fight and his death.

“…damn, Contractors make sentient corpses.” Hotaru muttered with her eyebrows high on her forehead. “I’m going to have to remember that.” She turned back around…then looked over her shoulder. “Uh, Wei…I wasn’t kidding about needing that SOLDIER.”

Wei looked up from his hands again and then over to Granger’s dead flesh. “…yes, he’ll make a _perfect_ meat shield, won’t he?”

“Cowards always do.” Hotaru muttered before pressing her palms to the diagram to transmute the clothing she had collected. Wei stalked over to one of the generics and was apparently dragging it over to the dead SOLDIER, creating an unholy racket as the transmutation finished and Hotaru was inspecting the now black shirt, free of blood and tears.

“Be _silent_ —you’re already _dead_.” Wei half growled at the creature.

“…hmm…maybe I should make a set of underwear while I’m at it…” Hotaru thought aloud, looking down at the weird leotard she was dressed in. She had been in shorts and a two-piece swimsuit while grooming a few water Pokémon, when Future Yamamoto and Future Gokudera paid the Pokémon kennel a visit. She had surprised to see them, needless to say, wondering just _how_ Lambo did it…when Future Lambo had come up behind them looking rather sheepish.

Hotaru remembered Future Gokudera explaining what was going on, that her future self had gone missing after returning from Gaia, and that Tsuna had gotten very badly hurt in their time. They swapped with their younger selves, after Lambo had accidentally sent her Tsuna into the future…and the final one they needed was _her_ to make sure the Vongola Famiglia survived, along with her Tsuna, Gokudera, Yamamoto, Lambo, I-Pin, Kyoko and Haru. Hotaru had told them they were _not_ getting _her_ to time travel— _not_ without one _hell_ of a fight…at least until Future Yamamoto caught her off guard and _kissed_ her.

Hell, the future bastard even slipped his tongue into her mouth, making her swallow a couple things that were _not_ pleasant going down!

Hotaru was _definitely_ going to kick his ass when she got her hands on him. He _and_ Future Gokudera were going to get a smack down for launching the Ten Year Bazooka at her. And she was _definitely_ giving Future Tsuna a piece of her mind while she was--

A couple shirts hitting her head, broke Hotaru out of her thoughts. She pulled them off her head and she looked at Wei, who was pushing the generic demoniac away from him, the weaker creature holding its arm with a healing gash down the length of it.

“Use those.” Wei suggested as the SOLDIER’s dead body jolted and twitched like it was receiving bursts of electricity. “The suits chafe without anything between you and them.”

“Yeah, fair enough.” Hotaru tossed both shirts into the center of her transmutation circle and transmuted herself a couple pairs of undergarments and socks before she tucked them into her back shirt with a faint blush when Wei looked over at her. “Hey, stupid—get me all the belts and metal pieces from the uniforms.”

A generic demoniac growled at her as Hotaru scratched off a few more tabs and tossed them in the direction of Granger’s transforming corpse.

“Hey, I _made_ you.” Hotaru shot at the demoniac, a surge of electricity causing the creature to cry and then collapse to the floor. “Do as you’re told, or I’ll let Wei add you to the brute over there.”

“What _are_ those?” Wei inquired, watching the tabs being drawn in and absorbed by Granger.

“Marionette tabs. They let me control the generics…and sometimes other amalgams. I don’t like doing the latter.” Hotaru admitted, collecting the pieces of belt and putting them in the center of her diagram. She repaired it easily and set it aside to wear later. “Mostly, I just keep the generics from causing too much trouble, when I get a call.”

“Ah, crowd control.” Wei murmured in understanding as one of those said generics deposited more belts and the pieces of metal from the uniforms in a pile beside Hotaru. She thanked it and began transmuting everything once again. Wei was only half watching her, seeing as the _rest_ of his attention was on the SOLDIER…who was absorbing a few more Marionette tabs, as though to insure Hotaru would control the beast when it was finished.

She was the new BK-201…and yet she wasn’t. _His_ BK-201 was softer spoken, more soft smiles and delicate laughs. She was a Vongola-Sarto liaison, dressing as a Vongola and answering to the Decimo without hesitation, mostly handling the Lambo from this time. She didn’t fight as much anymore, mostly support and technical…like something was severely _broken_ within her…like her Vongola ring and her missing Sarto pieces, had _taken_ something with them.

No, his BK-201 had changed about 6 years ago, when her Eidolon had been ripped from her and then required another Fal’Cie to brand her, to remain a L’Cie. And it only became _more_ pronounced when she had to slay _Sephiroth_. But Wei _supposed_ it started when her Gunblade Paladin was _shattered_ , just 8 or 9 years back.

_This_ BK-201 wasn’t soothing words and placating smiles—only easily shedding blood of her perceived enemies and relentlessly achieving victory. She was harsher, _fiercer_ than the BK-201 Wei remembered with a cruel mercilessness that had both chilled him to the bone and set his blood on fire. If _any_ of the Vongola were going to survive this, Wei had _little_ doubt it would be _this_ inherited Contractor.

Wei heard a sort of wet rip and he looked over at Hotaru, watching her use his knife to cut the suit from her body, her back to the generics carrying out her instructions. She put on one of her transmuted bras (black, like the shirt) and then stood, to remove the rest of the suit for a pair of white panties, Wei looking away at that time. When he checked on her again, she was finished pulling on the socks and was pulling on the pants. And she did _all_ of this without putting her cigarette down for even a half moment…though, he was curious about that hipflask she kept shaking every now and then.

“Would one of you grab me a coat that hasn’t been too badly shredded?” Hotaru asked over her shoulder, using her fingers to comb out her hair. One of the generics brought her Wei’s coat. “Thank you ever so much. Wei, do ya mind?”

“No, I doubt I will have need of it.” Wei had a feeling he wouldn’t be able to change back from this form. He didn’t mind—far better off an undead Contractor than a decomposing corpse.

“Then I’ll be turning it into a bag to carry my plundered toys in.” Hotaru replied before doing just that—creating a small backpack with pockets for her little collection of goodies. She transmuted a pair of gloves, tailoring them down to her size, before she pulled on the boots, tucking the legs of the pants into the boot legs.

It was a small flurry of activity, Hotaru transmuting whatever was brought to her upon a request and Wei now focusing on the reforming Granger. The tabs seemed to have taken instant control over the bizarre ape-minotaur that now hulked in the dead SOLDIER’s place. He wasn’t all _that_ impressive, but Wei supposed a meat shield didn’t _have_ to be impressive—just heavy and durable.

Hotaru was securing newly made pouches to her thighs and buckling her belt with her shirt tucked in and his knife secured on the belt within easy reach, when Wei looked at her. She looked Granger over as she flicked the ash off the end of her cigarette, and then refocused on finishing getting dressed, the jacket being pulled on next and reaching her thighs. She was settling the garment when Wei noticed the piles of blocks and rings she had near her feet, some of them he recognized as his own…though he had rarely had cause to use them.

“Do you know how to use box weapons and the rings?” Wei inquired as Hotaru crouched and put the rings in a small pouch on her belt and divided the boxes up between the two thigh pouches.

“Some pulse with power, others pulse with life—much like materia. It shouldn’t be _that_ hard for me to figure it out.” Hotaru said, shouldering her backpack and rolling her jacket sleeves up to her elbows. “And if that doesn’t work, I can always just ask _you_ …or spy on the enemy.”

Wei had to admit that _this_ BK-201 was becoming more deserving of her Messer Code the more she revealed to him. The male BK-201 would have been _proud_ of this development.

“Uh, Wei—would you do me one last favor before we leave the room?” Hotaru asked of the undead Contractor, her hand on her stomach. “Future Yamamoto slipped me something…and I don’t think it likes me. Could you get me to throw it up, whatever it is?”

“…best brace yourself then.”

8-8

“…holy _shit_ , these are _tiny_.” Hotaru muttered, looking at the box weapons in her palm. Future Yamamoto was _crazy_ for making her swallow these. They were just _barely_ under a quarter of the box weapons in her pouches. “I wonder how they got this small. Maybe same thought-process as the pokéballs, perhaps? So, possibly activated by something _other_ than touch by a switch or a sensor, correct?”

Wei nodded once when Hotaru glanced at him. “Truly miniature box weapons, possibly. It would require a certain type of flame and a corresponding ring, in order to cause the box to respond.”

“Flames, huh?” Hotaru mumbled, giving it a bit of thought without concern to another generic demoniac finishing its transformation just on the other side of Granger’s brutish form. “Safe to assume that we’re talking about Dying Will, correct?”

“Yes, very safe.” Wei nodded once, once again and Hotaru muttered “right” in thought.

Hotaru doubted any of the rings she held currently would be what she needed. She had _foolishly_ left her Void ring with her Holy and other pieces of jewelry, with her other clothes to keep from getting shocked from the electrical attributes of certain water Pokémon she had been tending to at the time.

…and a lot of the Light Pokémon didn’t like her Vongola ring while a lot of the Dark Pokémon _really_ liked it.

“Perhaps it doesn’t _need_ a ring, the process.” Hotaru looked at a tall man with long silver hair in black leather pants and a dark green channel sweater. He was leaning against the nearest wall, looking at her with a slightly expectant look. “Perhaps it merely requires the ignition…and what did I teach you back then? How do you cause an ignition when the circuit is vastly incomplete?”

“…become circuit myself…” Hotaru mumbled looking at the small boxes in her palm.

“What…?” Wei looked where she had looked, then back to her. Hotaru wrapped both hands around the boxes and closed her eyes, looking like she was at peace, praying.

It was a base principle of magic, of _sorceress_ magic. In order to use materia, one was merely a _piece_ of the circuit. However, when one could use magic in _place_ of materia, one _was_ the circuit. And she hadn’t learned that at White Garden or in her uncle’s care.

She learned it in a _specimen cell_.

Her dying will suddenly ignited in a brilliant blaze of deep _ebony_ around her hands. Her eyes opened partway as she lowered her hands and opened them, palms up. The boxes went from the size of dice to the proper size of the other box weapons on her person. As her flames dwindled down to nothing, Hotaru blinked to come out of her slight trance.

Wei inspected their surroundings. “…odd, none of the alarms were set off…”

“You’re only as radiant as the shadows you cast.” Hotaru explained. “To remain hidden as just another star in the sky, I’m constantly in the center of my own containment bubble.”

“Ah, a world within a soap bubble.” Wei was familiar with the phrase and the meaning behind it. “A very clever application of an old world understanding.”

Hotaru looked at the boxes, wondering how to open them without a ring. She saw the hole for the ring to help the flames enter the box…but she still didn’t like the selection she had for this thing…unless…

Hotaru took the dog tags out of her jacket pocket with its class ring, but her interest was on the ring instead of the tags this time. Its jewel flared through her nerves, making her turn the ring over to the back of the setting…huh, an old engraving but what could have the moon, waves and rain…

_Central Water Tribe._

Hotaru quickly took the ring off the tags and slipped it on her finger. The sapphire flared with brilliant ocean colored flames.

“...my water property, my chi…my throat chakra…?” Hotaru asked looking at Wei.

“Your _rain_ pulse. These flames are _rain_.” The undead Contractor told her, getting her to look at the fiery ring.

“…jus’ like Takashi…” Hotaru murmured rubbing her thumb against the band currently resting on her index finger. And because _Future Yamamoto_ gave these boxes to her…

Hotaru put her ring into the hole of one box and nearly dropped both, when the first tipped from her hand. Her _personal possessions_ spilled out of the box and onto her floor, like they _hadn’t_ been contained in the tiny thing just a moment prior. All her clip pouches, all the things she had had in her pockets— _everything_ she had had _on_ her before changing into the two piece and shorts!

Wordlessly, Wei took her backpack off her shoulders and began to collect everything off the floor, putting things in various pockets of the backpack and clipping a few pouches to her belt. Hotaru let him do it, mostly out of shock…and while she swore to _really_ gut those two when she caught up with them at the back of her mind, the forefront was pointing out, that it explained _why_ Future Yamamoto had hung back and let Future Gokudera do all the talking. And Hotaru opened the second box, only to find a _mass_ of familiar weapons in holsters, both regular and folded zero-space.

Paladin went at the back of her belt, each zanpakuto alongside each thigh pouch, Hei’s knives on their shoulder rig under her jacket and her Current Buster along her left thigh under the pouch. Her guns were in their holsters alongside her knives and the spare rounds were in zero-space cargo cases behind each hip. Her paper was in zero-space cases just ahead of them. Her belt buckle was replaced with her sphere grid and all her jewelry and rings were in place, the blue ring replacing the tarnished Leviathan and her Vongola ring on her index finger.

“…he replaced the chain.” Hotaru muttered, looking at her Holy with the ring Xanxus had given her a number of time compressions ago. She could feel its power…but Wei didn’t seem to be able to sense it, neither could Granger…who was now poking one of the new demoniacs. _One act of kindness doesn’t let him off the hook, the prick._

Hotaru put it around her neck and accepted her Sky Pendulum from Wei, pocketing it after tucking her necklaces under her shirt. She pulled her hair back and tied it with her Ribbon, the scarlet strip vibrant as a splash of fresh blood against her hair and the collar of her jacket.

“We should get moving.” Wei told her as she pushed her glasses higher up her nose.

A smirk curved her lips. “Don’t worry, Wei. I know _exactly_ what I’m doing.”

8-8-8

Setting her mass of generic demoniacs loose on anyone they crossed, Hotaru looked over the rings and box weapons Granger offered her in his gigantic clawed paws. She divided them up as she had the others and stowed the rings into the smaller pouch with the others, before letting Granger return to making lesser demoniacs again. She looked over at the different demoniacs Wei was now evaluating, these ones caught between Wei’s purely unique form and the generic one, something similar to Granger in the stupid but obediently powerful kind of way.

Hotaru wasn’t worried about the cameras, since they had been easy to tamper with thanks to her innovator ability. So leaning up against a wall with minimal blood splatter and scorch marks, Hotaru toyed with a sharpie she had found as a couple demoniacs were harvesting belts and metal for her, even dragging the more maimed corpses away from her. All this activity wasn’t truly _her_ conscious order, more of what she brushed aside and what Wei seemed to delegate without either having to say a word.

She occupied herself with drawing another transmutation circle out of blood, using the sharpie (with its cap left on) as her stylus. The belts and metal collected were changed into useful tools, though not for herself. She had _plenty_ of toys at the moment….but she had a feeling she’d run into some humans who were more valuable to her alive and armed to her preferences. She wasn’t so sure she’d trust these black and white guys with box weapons and rings, though it’d probably just depend on the individual.

“Wei, can any of them do anything spectacular, or are they little more than Granger here?” Hotaru asked, Wei stepping back to let his creator take a good look at them.

“I’m afraid that they are like our brute.” Wei answered. “However, as they are of a more slighter nature, they should prove to be _more_ effective than our generics.”

8-8-8-8-8-8-8-8

“…you’re _not_ him….you’re _not_ Angeal Hewley….”

Genesis hazarded a look at Angeal, seeing the mix of confusion and anger battling his good nature. This girl hadn’t entered their area with the intent of causing anyone any harm. He didn’t want to her hurt her, in return.

She was _just_ a _child_.

“…You’re _not_ the man he told me about….you’re _not_ his _friend_ …”

“…what?” Angeal muttered, looking at Genesis confused. _Genesis_ , however, wasn’t looking at his friend— _not_ when he remembered the little girl who saved him from the mako hunters, the little girl who _died_ to protect him…the little girl whom reminded him so _strongly_ of Angeal, that her white wings had been _all_ the physical evidence he had needed to confirm his notions.

“…You’re _not_ him…” The girl growled softly, getting Angeal to look at her in shock. “ _He_ is _honorable_ …he’s _just_ and _kind_ …he would _never_ side with a bunch of _thoughtless murderers_ …not after the Wutai-ShinRa wars…he wouldn’t have _abandoned_ his _friends_ or _anyone_ who needed him…so, you’re _not_ Angeal Hewley…there’s _no way_ you’re the man I wanted to be _proud_ of me, for living the way _he_ did…”

Her hands curled into fists. “There’s _no way_ you’re the man S _told_ me about _night after night_ in the Science Department’s holding cells—so, you’re _not_ Angeal Hewley.”

Angeal couldn’t believe how _delusional_ this girl was. “Honey, I hate to break it to you but I _am_ SOLDIER First Class Angeal Hewley.”

“You’re _lying_! He’s _buried_ in Banora! _Right_ beside my grandmother, his _mother,_ and his best friend! My father was a _hero_! He was _my_ hero! He _wouldn’t_ have _abandoned_ his role as one of Rufus’s Guardians in _billion lifetimes_!” She snapped at them, shocking both SOLDIERs. She sounded like she was about to cry tears of rage and grief. Her head lifted, revealing startling _amethyst_ eyes, glistening with unshed tears and shining with pure anger. “And I’ll _prove_ it to _everyone_ —you’re _not_ Angeal Elias Hewley! There’s no _way_ that _you’re_ Project A!”

Her eyes turned vibrant blue in a nano second, bleeding instantly into indigo and then into sapphire…and _then_ they turned _bright_ acidic _jade green_ with that bisecting pupil. She drew a claymore with a steel edge purple blade from a _really_ small sheath…and the _way_ she held it said it was a pure extension of her body. Her dying will suddenly ignited, rising up from her forehead and her rings _blazed_ to life as the blade’s edge suddenly _separated_ from the blade, shortening the crossguard and _filling_ the space with tightly woven energy.

“As a Tsviet of DeepGround—I’ll _prove_ it!”

“… _shit_!” Angeal _almost_ didn’t bring his sword up fast enough, coating it in his own flames to keep the blade from being too ineffective…and _her_ blade literally _sucked_ the flames into itself. He kept his feet grounded, pulling on _more_ of the mako in his blood to keep himself strong in the face of that blade.

“And I am _stronger_ than you.” She growled, pushing him _back_ a full _step_ without breaking their contact. She took one hand off the grip and _still_ kept Angeal struggling with _both_ against her. _“Blizzarga.”_

Angeal bite out a curse and dodged the blast of frigid magic. She was as strong as him with _little_ effort and as magically effective as Genesis…this was _not_ a good opponent for them to go up against…but like _Hell_ if Angeal was going to back down. And with a low snarl, drew on his mako and swung his sword at her to send across the room.

…only to find himself stopped _dead_ by this Tsviet girl—she didn’t even budge a _hair_!

“You know, you _should_ have listened to me, idiot.” Angeal could see Sephiroth out of the corner of his eye, like he _always_ could whenever their third appeared to him. “I _told_ you, to _return_ to Gaia. If you had, you would have gotten to see her a whole _Hell_ of a lot sooner.”

It was just in his head— _all_ of it, was _just_ in his _head_.

“She’s not _lying_ , Angeal. The most _honorable_ of the Tsviets, the one whom _never_ lies and _never_ strikes down an innocent is the _very_ DeepGround operative that has you in a _stand still_.” Sephiroth shot back pointedly. “Her dying will was _sculpted_ under Hojo’s blade when he reacquired her after their escape. She has _lived_ half _dead_ for the _majority_ of her life and her dying will is _proof_ of that. And when we _first_ met—sweet _Leviathan_ , the brat reminded me of _you_! Her _kindness_ , her _honor_ —her _way of thinking_ was damn near _identical_ to _yours_ in _every_ fucking way! Her _wings_ only _proved_ that _further_!”

…wings?

As if she had heard him or had been given some kind of cue, a large white _wing_ stretched out from behind her left shoulder, a small twin stretching out from behind her ribs. Angeal remembered what Hollander had said—their shared genetics with their copies would give the clones the _same_ kind of wings…and _Hojo_ had…said the kind and coloring of the wing was _genetic_ , allowing their _children_ to…oh, no…ohnononononono.

“ _Yes_ , stupid—you’re fighting your _daughter_.” Sephiroth drawled.

“...Violetta….” Genesis mumbled in shock.

…wait— _Violetta_ was the name of the girl who save Genesis back…holy _shit_!

Angeal pushed himself off the ground, a large dent in the wall behind him, and groaned with a hand held to his head to keep it from spinning off his neck. He looked back over at Violetta, her sword _still_ pulsing and vibrant…and then the sides snapped back to the center, allowing her to sheath it in that small holster and keep it there after it folded itself into a smaller holder with a couple snaps and cords. Her wings drew themselves close to her body, staying out of her way.

“I told you…you’re _not_ my father.” She said softly as she turned headed for the door.

“W-wait!” Angeal half called after her, getting her to look over her right shoulder, her eyes still jade behind her long bangs.

“…why should I? You’re _nothing_ but an old man with an identity crisis. You can claim to be whomever you want to be…I know my father is resting in the Lifestream, where fools like you can’t touch him.” She said, facing forward and striding calmly out the exit where a monstrous form waited for her.

“Hei?” The creature inquired.

“…it wasn’t him…just another fake…”

Angeal worked to swallow the heavy lump in his throat, his heart being ripped in two at his stupidity being the cause. The thump and skid of something got his attention to a pale covered book, that he recognized as LOVELESS.

“…it doesn’t matter if you’re the same Genesis I died for…I just figured you’d like that back.” Violetta told Genesis over her shoulder, startling Genesis as her wing dissolved into currents and white feathers. “…it brought me a surprising amount of comfort…”

Genesis collected the old battered copy of LOVELESS with its traces of Wutaian blood splattered on the cover, from the floor and opened the front cover. He snapped it closed and looked at the door, reaching out and opening his mouth to call her back. The door closed, _just_ in time for them to see her _punch_ the wall across from her…and for Angeal to see the single _tear_ fall to the ground.


	4. War of the Halved Rings III

The X-Blades were _nasty_ looking knuckle-buster style trench knives with the Xs wrapped around where each finger hole met another, and just below the pinky, an elaborate engraving scrawled down the length of the blade with a jewel set near the top, the jewel bearing the Vongola crest in its depths. It was _really_ ironic, in Tsuna’s book, that they would belong to Xanxus’ _true_ Cloud Guardian, the cowboy-hat-topped, motorcycle-boot-wearing Dragoon of the Varia…and Xanxus hadn’t challenged Dragoon for the Sky ring, especially since Dragoon had left the Varia behind.

Reborn said that there was a rumor going about, that Dragoon took an oath of nonaggression and sealed away their powers as Xanxus’s Cloud Guardian, to keep from having to spill Vongola blood. The story was that Dragoon had been Xanxus’ favorite cook and could kill without touching you, not even by their flames. They left the Varia, handing over their X-Blades and Varia ring before never looking back.

Hotaru said only part of that story was the truth. As a descendent of the Primo’s Rain Guardian, Hotaru had access to the exclusive records and information, and corrected a few things. Yes, Dragoon took an oath of nonaggression and had handed over the X-Blades, the latter much to the Ninth’s surprise—and _yes_ , only Dragoon could cook food Xanxus wouldn’t ever complain about, or refuse. It was more like Dragoon was the Nanny of the Varia to Lussuria being the Varia’s “Mother” and they had gotten along rather well, the Varia Sun often acting out the more outrageous versions of whatever Dragoon expressed…and only Dragoon could get Mammon to sleep without issue…and often against his will.

However, Dragoon didn’t seal off their powers but merely stopped using them, or rather _rarely_ used them. They never handed over their Varia ring— _refused_ to when Squalo had demanded it of them. And Dragoon’s oath didn’t pertain to not spilling Vongola blood—it was to keep from being used as a _weapon_ against the Famiglia—the Mosca unable to use _them_ as a battery (as the Ninth had been) because of the oath they had made, would have instantly triggered their Rain Attribute flames and kept the machine docile to the point of nonfunction.

“…and _why_ are we not being specific about Dragoon’s gender?” Gokudera asked with a slight scowl at Hotaru.

“Oh, I…” A sheepish blush colored her cheeks as she pushed her glasses higher up her nose. “…I was told not to reveal that until I’m to speak with the Ninth after the ceremony.”


	5. Simon Arc I

“Let me go! Let go!”

Hotaru’s thrashing and demands had a sharp, panicked edge to it with tears running from her eyes as they held her down with Enma kneeling by her head with his hands on either side. Breaking her Oath of Nonaggression was proving _harder_ than they thought. Hotaru had tried to keep the peace, had tried to resolve the issues at hand…had even offered to be their eternal go-between so the Vongola and the Simon Famiglia wouldn’t have to deal with one another directly. She had Simon blood, through her father ( _just_ as she had the blood of the First Rain Guardian), and Vongola blood (by way of her mother) running through her veins—the proof was in her La Spada della Terra and La Spada della Cielo, the X-Blades that declared her birth-rite for both families.

She had been Dragoon of the Varia, the Cloud Guardian for their boss Xanxus…and yet, she was trying to throw Adehield off of her, kick Kaoru and Aoba off her legs and pull her arms free from Adehield, Shitt P and Julie’s collective grips….like she was an ordinary girl. Enma had expected her rumored Earth flame and reputed Sky flame to lend her power…but _all_ they were getting was the flame of her damn _Rain_ attribute.

… _that_ was _it_ —her _Rain Attribute_ was automatically awakened to keep her oath. They quailed that side of her, that cold Varia loner part of her that made her Dragoon of the Clouds. It was tied to _something_ in her past, Julie had checked that out himself, but as to _what_ that something _was_ , was beyond Enma’s knowledge at the moment.

So, all _he_ had to do was squash her Rain flames and force her Sky flames to submit to him (since the rumored Earth flames would _naturally_ bow to their boss), in a similar manner that destroyed the Vongola rings—and he’d be able to break her oath. Then, it was just a matter of forcing her Sky-sided flames under her Earth-sided and making her wear those two rings she had brought to the Ceremony from her safety deposit box, to return to the Simon Famiglia as a peace offering of good will and good faith for a peaceful future. And it was _not_ going to _pleasant_ for her at _all_ …which was a pity, since Enma _did_ happen to _really_ like the girl.

Enma’s brow furrowed slightly with annoyance as an image came to his mind to help him focus on the task at hand. It was a coiled dragon which looked asleep, engulfed in blue flames. If he could just _smother_ those flames under his Earth flames, just bury them until they snuffed themselves out…wait, there were Cloud flames mixed in with the Rain…and were those traces of _Mist_?

_There!_ Enma latched onto the crystalline flame at the dragon’s center, the jewel-like fire of her Dying will. He surged his Earth Flame into it, strengthening and coaxing it burn _brighter_ , to _overwhelm_ her Rain. And only _one_ thing came to mind when it grew large enough for Enma to identify it.

The _Adamant Flame_.

…she really _was_ Soichi’s daughter…

“…come, join your Famiglia, sister…” Enma murmured under his breath. “…become my seventh guardi--”

_The Adamant and Aurora rings dug into her palms, the rings spun around to hide them from her hideous cousins. She locked her jaw again the pain ripping through her as her Zanne di Drago were_ melted down _in the large pouring pot currently over a_ hot _fire,_ glaring _at the laughing bastards. She ignored the burning in her eyes and the pain from her split lip as her blood_ boiled _at the fifth or sixth kick to the gut Yamamoto received, his hands bound behind his back and his ankles tied._

_She could feel the Ore and Snow rings pulsing like distant frantic hearts on the thin chain Mammon had given her, the rings hidden under her t-shirt. She tried to keep calm, tried to keep from struggling against the bindings…but_ oh _, were they making it_ difficult _. She felt the slight chill behind her, blood beginning to drip from her nose as one of the pricks punched Yamamoto hard enough to break his nose…if the idiot_ really _knew what he was doing._

_The Zanne di Drago were nothing more than bubbling liquid when they brought the kettle over from the fire. Two of her cousins held her still and a third jammed a funnel into her mouth. Yamamoto’s eyes widen in fear and terror for_ her _as the molten blades were_ poured _down her throat, the bastards cackling. And just as the_ last _drop left the kettle, a small spurt of Dying Will signal a_ click _in her head._

_She swallowed that last drop and her sight was painted blood_ red _with only her targets swirling fear as she broke free and reclaimed her blades in her hands. Yamamoto was knocked for a loop when a foot accidentally made contact with his head, and she descended with frenzy and skill._


	6. Post War of the Halved Rings I

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Xanxus likes his pretty guardian. Underage (under 18) warning

Xanxus didn’t particularly _care_ he was peeking up the skirt of a 17-year-old girl but he’d _slaughter_ anyone _else_ who dared to take such a liberty. He lifted the edge of her short black skirt while she was going through a nearby drawer for something she needed to fully tend to him while he was lounging in the tub. Normally, it was just a long shower but it was a blissfully quiet night (he was purposefully ignoring the loud cursing match between his Lightning, Rain and Storm Guardians—honestly, didn’t they realize he was _busy_?) and taking a long soak with his Cloud pampering him, wasn’t something he was in the mood to pass up.

He had to admit the black hose with its lacy tops and matching garter belt, stood out provocatively against her porcelain flesh and her satin panties not _only_ matched but made for an _easy_ target. Of course, the corset she wore under her white dress shirt, put her breasts on perfect display, letting him drape himself down her body and bury his face in them. And those thigh high boots with stiletto heels…well, did he _really_ have to own up to the fact he was guilty for _all_ of it, even if she wasn’t _wearing_ the boots at the moment?

Xanxus was the _boss of the Varia_ —he didn’t have to own up to _shit_ if he didn’t feel like it.

With a devious smirk and a slow wetting of his lips, Xanxus easily reached forward and slipped his fingers down the faint crease in her panties, pressing hard _enough_ on her center, to get her jump with a muffled squeak and shoot upright. He didn’t move his hand, instead rubbing the spot the pads of his fingers were pressing against through the satin. She gave him a four-eyed _look_ over her shoulder and he gave her a heated, unrepentant smirk in return, making her sigh heavily, roll her eyes and trade him a tumbler of scotch on the rocks for leaving her be for a few more moments. Xanxus accepted the bribe for the time being, but he was by _no_ means distracted.

His Cloud found whatever she had been looking for and stopped, grumbling softly at the hotel suite’s bathroom setup. He watched her with piqued interest as she set her gleaned tools aside and leaned down to undo her garter straps and slip off her hose, one leg at a time. Her garter belt was next, her exact elegance making him groan deeply into his tumbler as she set her removed garments aside and collected her desired items again. She made Xanxus sit up, put folded towels down as a cushion and sat down with the tools nearby and another towel folded in half over her lap.

Xanxus leaned back against her legs and laid his head in her lap, with a half smile. She rewarded his unguarded innocent sign of affection with a small smile of her own and gentle rub between his eyes and down his nose. He took one last sip of his drink before relaxing and letting her get to the tedious grooming he preferred _she_ take care of for him.

“You know,” she began as she picked up the tweezers, “you _could_ have _Lussuria_ do this for you.”

“You keep saying you’d like alone time.” Xanxus pointed out, closing his eyes as she began with his eyebrows.

“This isn’t what I meant, Xan. I meant, _literally_ on my own.” She knew that he was _very_ aware of that. If she went off on her own, Squalo, Fran, Levi or Bel would come bother the hell out of her, though Squalo did it because he didn’t want her to slack off with her swordsmanship and Fran was a bit of a nuisance. The other two just like to annoy the piss out of her.

“What are you complaining about?” Xanxus opened one of his eyes to look up at her. “At least I’m _quiet_. Even _Lussuria_ squirms and makes noise, Mammon too.”

“Yeah, but you _always_ have to _cling_ to me. You _have_ to nap _on me_ , be _holding_ me—playing with whatever part of me, you can _reach_ at any given time.” She responded, not letting the conversation distract her as Xanxus closed his eye again. “Honestly, I should just electrocute all of you and be on my merry way.”

She kept _saying_ such things…well, in all actuality, she _did_ mean it and she _would_ do it, should they push her past her tolerance. Xanxus knew she was his Cloud, thus naturally a loner but she got along well with Mammon, knew how to soothe and put him instantly asleep, though she usually traded things like favorite snacks or desserts for his services. Lussuria was another she got along well with, mostly because she knew plenty of excentric okama and the Sun usually helped her in the kitchen, with the mending, with the cleaning…and when it came to shopping or dressing the lone female of their number like a doll, Lussuria was always considerate about her tastes and preferences.

Mammon usually asked for her help with developing new illusions because of her ability to see their flaws in an instant and would point them out to him, so he could compensate for them or adapt. Lussuria rarely had a decent sparring partner and she proved to be more than a match for the okama, much to the tranny’s delight. And when it came to books or music, they tried to leave her alone as much as possible, even if they were in the same room with her.

Squalo figured her time would be better spent on training. Levi and Bel didn’t seem to get that she _only_ spared them because Xanxus told her, he didn’t want to locate and retrain new guardians. And Fran just nagged her about whatever she was reading or listening to, again told to spare him due to Xanxus’ unwillingness to go through the process of looking and training another new Mist.

It was in that moment Xanxus realized the Varia had been taking more and more dangerous jobs, since she had joined them officially. She was their spy, able to infiltrate, sabotage and instigate without leaving a trace and using her propagation ability to empower or embroil her allies’ attacks or her enemies’ emotions until her success was so damn obvious, a _blind man_ from _birth_ could see it in blazing color.

…blazing color…yeah, that described her pretty well, when Xanxus thought about it.

And with those jewel toned beauties, no one could tell whether or not her flame was ignited when she suppressed the burn.


	7. TYL Vongola Base I

Tsuna didn’t know this young woman in the showers but her pale skin was covered in dark scars reminiscent of Xanxus’ but there certain ones that brought one of the seven Guardians to mind when he looked at them—Thunder, Storm, Cloud, Rain…ah, and _there_ was Sun, Sky and…and Mist…dear _God_. Her towel was actually a hand towel but it managed to keep her front decent at least, even with her long black hair and her eyes closed, an angry blush on her cheeks. And hanging off one of the shower’s handles, was a chain with a few rings and a familiar pendent.

Wait…was _this_ …?

“Wow, maybe Xanxus should have made you his Lightning, instead of his Cloud.” Yamamoto quipped, wearing a half smile. His words earned a soft smile in return.

Gokudera sighed heavily. “Remind me to beat some sense into that Stupid Cow when it comes to explosives near allies.”

“Let us know when you’re done, ‘kay?” Yamamoto requested as he and Gokudera steered Tsuna away from the showers for the time being. They were silent for a few corridors before Yamamoto grinned. “She’s certainly become beautiful, hasn’t she?”

“I fear for the guys we’ve turned into bloody smears for looking at her cross eyed.” Gokudera grinned as well.

“So, that really was Hotaru-chan…” Tsuna mumbled. “…where did she get all those scars? Did she try to stop a whole party of attackers by herself?”

“Ah, there you are!” Kusakabe looked relieved when he found them. “When I saw Bianchi and Lal Mirch looking pretty pleased with themselves…”

“ _Told_ you it was a trick.” Gokudera told Yamamoto. “My sister doesn’t like your cousin.”

“Kusakabe-san, Hotaru-chan…all those scars…” Tsuna trailed off, making Kusakabe sigh heavily.

“You’ve been told the Vongola rings were destroyed, correct?” Tsuna and the other two nodded. “Tomoe-san is the one who carried out the order. She asked if it would protect the family and then took them to a far location to use her combination of flames against them. It wasn’t a problem, doing the others, as she could negate and absorb the attributes easily enough…the issue was with the Sky Ring. She realized it had absorbed the power from the others and when she struck it at full power…”

“All that power lashed back.” Tsuna finished earned a nod.

“We were all surprised by that reaction to be honest but your future self was worried and asked Hibari-san and I to stay close. She was in pretty bad shape but we managed to get her medical attention before it was too late but she was left with those scars. It would have killed her if not for the Zero Point Break Revised Version A.”

“Version… _A_?” Gokudera repeated, earning a nod.

“You, out of all Sawada-san’s guardians, should understand the nature of the Aurora Guardian, Gokudera-san.”

“The-the—our _Lucciola_ -chan is-is--!” Gokudera looked completely shocked. “But-but _that_ would mean she’s--!”

“All done.” A soft, pretty voice said.

“Ah, Jyuichihime-chan.” Kusakabe greeted with a smile and a wave. Hotaru was dressed in a short black pencil skirt, white thigh highs with lacy tops, Varia boots and a white dress shirt with her sleeves rolled up to her elbows and her collar undone. She had slender oval glasses on her face, along with a nice pink lipstick, her hair pulled back in a semi ponytail with a silver barrette and the rest partially spilling down her front. She had a black watch on her wrist with bangles on each, a tote on her shoulder and her towels draped over her arm, her red pendent standing out against her pale scarred chest much like the simple silver hoop earrings in her ears.

“I didn’t realize the three of you were here, Kusakabe-fukutaichou. I apologize for not having tea and a small dessert waiting.” Was Adult Hotaru usually responsible for the relations side of things?

“It’s quite all right, Jyuichihime-chan. We arrived rather unexpectedly and unannounced.” Kusakabe dismissed graciously. “The boys didn’t mean to--”

“I felt the Hormonal Toddler and the Talentless Bitch enter the compound. I knew they’d pull something juvenile unless supervised.” Hotaru replied with a chill and a dark curve of her lips but still speaking softly. “Bel and Levi pull the same shit every day, so it’s really nothing I don’t see coming anymore. That all being said,” she looked at the three teens with a sweeter smile, “the showers’ all yours, boys. The one I was using tends to have a sticking handle but then again, I tend to like my showers near scalding, anyway. The one to its immediate right doesn’t have a high enough pressure to much good and the three across the way closest to the door, in order from closest to farthest, has a loose cold, a loose head and the tiles around the base of the fixtures are close to falling out. There’s bathing supplies and clean towels in the locker room. Do be careful, as I won’t be able to come tend to any injuries. As the respective representatives of our two Vongola factions, Kyouya-kun and I will be in a meeting and I won’t be able to leave.”

“We understand. Be careful yourself.” Yamamoto earned a light kiss to the temple in response, Gokudera a pat on the shoulder and Tsuna, a hair ruffling before Kusakabe followed her away from the three teenagers.

It was clear she had truly become a strong young woman.

8-8

“You weren’t entirely truthful with them.” Kusakabe replied, helping her put her bath things away and drape her towels to dry. “They would want to know the whole story.”

“You mean how Takeshi and Tsuyoshi lost custody because a cold revealed my foster parents hadn’t kept up my treatments like they swore they would, after my 8th birthday? How the only visitors I had at the hospital while everything was getting straightened out, were ghosts, hollows and Kyouya-kun?” Hotaru asked, sorting her dirty clothes and slipping another ring onto her left hand. “How I can’t even read my _cards_ or hear whispers after destroying the rings? How I was shipped off to America and ended up needing major surgery because of an accident? How I’m now madder than the Mad Hatter? Tell me, Kusakabe, what exactly do you mean.”

“…at least that you and Hibari-san are engaged to be married…”

Hotaru looked at the amethyst and diamond ring on her ring finger. “…I doubt they’d understand, to be honest. Xanxus only knows because Kyouya-kun told him point blank to his face…but it was decided by Jyudaime, not by Sawada-kun. He has no need to know.”

Well, when she put it like that…

“If you say so, Jyuichihime-chan.”

8-8-8-8

Kyouya kept his eyes on the young woman placing a piece of strawberry short cake, on the coffee table in front of him. He set his Western tea cup on its saucer as she set a fork on the dessert plate. Faster than possible, Kyouya grabbed her wrist and pulled her sharply onto his lap. He physically corrected her being flopped over his thighs, and had her straddling them instead.

“Most definitely _not_ a child.” Kyouya murmured, running his hands over her hips and up her sides. He looked up at her. “I thought your playing shy, was no longer needed.”

Hotaru blushed softly, her hands resting on Kyouya’s lapels and she settled more of her weight on his lap. “….Lal Mirch and Bianchi sent the boys to the showers, knowing full well I was in there…they wanted to show that I wasn’t the same…that I was a monster now…”

“Play ground.” Kyouya chided, nosing into her collar and gently rubbing the end of his nose against her throat. She let him pull her closer and wove a hand into his hair. Whem he bit the bend of her throat, Hotaru mewled around half her lower lip, earning a pleased hum from her fiancé.

Okay, it was an _arranged_ marriage but she was a carnivore like him, not afraid to rip herbivores into teeny pieces at a second’s notice. And he bit harder, getting her to press closer and fist his hair sharply in response.

He’d eat the cake she made, _after_ he had his main course…

8-8

It was a shame it had to be quick but even so, Kyouya refused to pull out as if they were in her room. He reveled in the feeling of her body still rippling around him as she caught her breath, both of them half dressed and his dessert plate or tea saucer on her flat stomach. And he had to admit, aside from being a carnivore, she made everything perfectly. He honestly had nothing ill to say about it…only that he couldn’t have more.

She didn’t know, that he knew the truth about her. He knew this wasn’t _their_ Hotaru, their Firefly. She was too sure of herself, too set in the Mafia lifestyle. She had to be closer to 30 than 20, and she didn’t have those little tattoos or the Italian phrase “Bite Me” along her spine at the base of her neck. There were no burns from all her little projects or calluses from weapons training or the faint smell of cigarette smoke, bamboo and cherry blossoms that clung to her skin.

The attribute scars shifted occasionally and she smelled faintly of rose wine, gun oil and Italian air. She called Tsuna “Jyuudaime” and Decimo, not Jyuu-ou. She didn’t protest “Jyuichihime” or his having sex, when she normally told Kusakabe to stuff it and usually stroke him off by hand before he could beat her to his belt. She didn’t wear a suit while she was at the base, let alone a skirt. She wasn’t wearing her belts or Black Gun. Nor did she have all her rings, trinkets and piercings in place. Her hair wasn’t up, as having it completely down bothered the hell out of her and Kyouya could see his mark of possession on her with ease, and a single barrette wouldn’t have been enough for her. And her bangs were straight across her fore head, when they had been almost to the end of her nose and brushed off to the side.

No, this _woman_ wasn’t the Varia Cloud Kyouya had taken from the woods that day, covered in her own blood from destroying the rings. However, he was more than willing to take his pleasure and toy with her, for as long as possible and keep his mouth shut.

His vicious carnivore would return when she was ready and confront her imposter, all in good time.


	8. Millefiore Base II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time-traveling, artificially aged elementary school genius, Spanner gets to babysit...sort of...

Spanner almost lost his sucker due to his shock but for the sight in front of him, it would have been worth it. His Millefore brethren were utterly devastated in this room and sling bag with a pair of crossed belts bearing box weapons and a gun, were close to a white coat clad young woman…who wasn’t wearing _anything else_ under it. However, judging by the shredded cloth, she had apparently been wearing something prior to the battle she had been victorious in. And his missing Mosca was beheaded and cut diagonally in half, amid her victims—and only _one_ person alive knew where to hit a Mosca to keep it from transmitting and attacking as well as felling it.

He stepped closer and tilted her head up…and _really_ came close to losing his sucker. It was _her_ …and yet _not_ her at the same time. Her piercings were missing, as was the hair dye and her typical makeup…but it _was_ her, all the same…and she was—

Spanner clamped his hand over his nose as a blush burned over his cheeks. Ye-ah, understood the coat, now—he _had_ to get her out of here. He closed the coat better and grabbed her stuff before returning to his Mosca suit and using it to collect the unconscious coat-thief.

And now, to get back to his personal space…

8-8-8-8-8-8

Spanner left her in the coat when he put her in his bed and made sure all the metal additions were off of it before he covered her up. He stuck close but stayed far enough away as to not disturb her as he went through her bag and inspected her boxes. They were tarnished silver with light purple sides, an indication of her Cloud attribute and her rings were on a chain hooked around the black gun’s trigger guard. And inside her bag was water, a container holding various meal bars, zipper pouches marked “black,” “white,” or some other color…which peaking into one marked “green” was discovered to be unmentionables, another few box weapons (one which was open), a wallet with pictures and cash, a coin purse, an eyeglasses case and a cosmetic bag.

So, it was more of an emergency overnight bag and a purse, kind of thing…which was pretty smart. Considering who this _was_ in his bed, he couldn’t really say it surprised him. She _was_ easily the most well prepared person he had ever met, that was for certain.

“Hm?” Spanner noticed a small note he had overlooked while inspecting the opened box weapon. “…‘this one is different…be careful...anyone with this flame, can open it…don’t go crazy, there’s only seventy turns…there’s garments in the bag, shoes in the box and finding clothes, has never been an issue, right?’ Oh, so I guess this was meant for you.”

Spanner looked at his sleeping guest and sighed. “I’d better just keep the note out and put everything else back.”

He had just turned back to his computer…when a soft groaning and mumbling in another language coming from behind him, told him of his visitor’s status. Spanner’s hands lifted from the keys, his eyes widened and his sucker nearly fell, at the warm weight that leaned against his back with arms loose around his waist. He swallowed thickly, a blush burning across his cheeks, and turned absolutely _scarlet_ when the arms tightened and his back was nuzzled.

The softly hummed snapped Spanner out of his stupor and the faint “warm” preceding a further snuggling closer, made him smile softly at her over his shoulder. The pieces were falling in place now and this behavior made sense when he took the refusing-to-close box weapon and the note into account. Spanner just went back to work on the programming and data analysis, letting her sleep for a little bit longer.

After all, all little girls needed their beauty sleep.

8-8-8-8

When his guest woke up from her ball on the floor at the small of his back, Spanner _knew_ it. Aside from the weight pulling away a little, it was the jump _into_ his back that told him, she wasn’t asleep any longer. Of course, turning around part way, let her scramble into his lap but Spanner kept one arm around her while reaching for the sucker, a Mini Mosca had been offering her.

“It’s totally harmless.” Spanner told her, giving her the sucker with a small smile. “It’s just a Mosca.”

“…just _nuthin’_ …” She muttered around the sucker in her mouth. “…frikkin’ _Towers_ , every last one o’ ‘em…”

Towers? Spanner typed the associated words into a database search and saw what she was talking about. The True Varia Cloud Guardian was talented with Tarot Cards, and had been predicting a “Tower” coming to Japan…the individual the card represented had been the Gola Mosca unit accompanying the Varia as Xanxus’ Cloud at the time. And back _then_ …

“It’s okay; they run off internal energy cores, not people.” Spanner soothed, rubbing her back as she sat up more to peer around him.

“…so, they have batteries now?” She asked innocently, curiosity seeping into her tone.

“Yep, the rechargeable kind and I can control ‘em from here, or from my own suit version.” Spanner assured her, the Mini Mosca coming closer to her to inspect her properly. She daringly poked it with a toe, making it back off a step, brushing off its belly, and coming around to Spanner’s other side.

“…so, are they some kind of AI now….or…?” Spanner was partially surprised she was interested in machines but having to catch her when she half spilled over his shoulder to follow it without being in its way, wasn’t what he was expecting at all.

“Basic OS, though probably more advanced compared to what you’re used to.” Spanner replied, easily pulling her back into his lap and returning his attention to what he was working on. All she did, was adjust her position to watch him, holding onto her sucker with one hand and twirling a lock of her hair around a finger of the other.

“…I dunno…I’m used to some pretty advanced stuff…” She mumbled around her lollipop, watching him input code and data. “…wait, why are you using a Beringer Linear code? That was obsolete back when I was in diapers…”

“An’ how long have you been _out_ of them?” Spanner asked, looking down at her. Her eyes were riveted to his screen.

“I’m 7, even if I _do_ look younger. Tsuyoshi says it was the same way for Mama.” She replied, leaning forward and taking over his keyboard. “…One of my uncle’s lap dogs taught me…the tricks to hacking the Beringer Linear…so if I can just reinforce these areas…”

“Hey now, I’ll lose my remote control ability.” Spanner caught her hands and pulled her back into his lap properly. “…hold up, you removed a section of code I’m required to keep in there.”

“…but it’s no longer a Tower, if it’s removed.”

Spanner realized what she had done—she had rendered this Moca _safe_. Well, it was _still_ a Mosca, still dangerous…but _now_ it was _just_ a puppet, just an extension of Spanner’s control-operated will.

Just _what_ had Byakkuran _insist_ on requiring in the code?

8-8-8-8

“Hey, I have a spare set of coveralls that should fit you.” Spanner looked over from the crate he was digging around in and sighed, knowing he _really_ should have had her stick next to him. She was back at his computer, her nimble, half hidden fingers flying over the keys. “What are you up to over there?”

“Looking for Takeshi, primarily. He disappeared from middle school’s diamond but Yamamoto-san wasn’t in his place.” She explained, not looking away from the screen. “Tsuna and Hayato disappeared as well. Shortly thereafter, Lambo and I-Pin went missing, and Reborn-san wasn’t answering his mobile...and when I checked Kokuyo Land, Chippyon and Keppyon hadn’t seen Nappyon. When I suspected the 10 Year Bazooka of the Bovino Famiglia in Lambo’s care, I was on my way to look for Ryohei-sempai and Kyouya-sempai before…well, before I ended up in that mess.”

“I don’t have access to that kind of information.” Spanner pointed out.

“I know how to hack into something without getting caught. I do it with a game controller and my school’s mainframe all the time.”

“You said you were _seven_ , didn’t you?”

“Miss Lucy says I pick up on things quickly, so nothing’s really impossible for me. And when it comes to computers, there’s no such thing as something ‘off limits’.”

“…hey, I know that guy…he was skulking ‘round Tsuna’s place the other day…had a crate from the Bovino Famiglia…” Sapper looked over her shoulder and reached to grab her to pull her away. “…it’s one way….I can see him but he can’t see or hear me…but I’ll slip back out for now…”

_I really crushed on the right kinda girl._ Spanner thought, letting her pull back and get to her feet. “C’mon, you can change over here. I tucked the bag you had with you, behind the Mosca already. Oh, and here—you left this for yourself. It might help you get everything in the right place.”

She accepted the paper he took from his pocket. “…thank you…”

Spanner distracted himself with his Mosca, letting her dress in piece. “Do you know how boxes work?”

“…yeah, create a flame with the ring, put that flame in its associated box…and get something like a weapon, an effect or an animal, right?” She asked in return, a zipper sounding. “…black would look best, I think…what ‘bout shoes…?”

She was a pretty smart kid, figuring it all out amid battle. Her eyes _had_ to be pretty sharp in order to catch all that without having to take pause. From the time the doors closed, to time Spanner went to collect the data, was _less_ than 10 minutes. She must have switched with her older self shortly after entering the room, and was immediately thrown into battle against a lot of humans in conjunction with a few Mosca units.

“…flame in the box…oh!” A clatter made Spanner look towards her shelter. “…not shoes…let’s try…ah, here we go…”

Spanner waited a few more moments and she came out from behind the Mosca, with box-laden belts, holstered gun and backpack in place. She had a cuff with a couple bangles on her left wrist and bangles on her right. Her hair was folded up and held in place by cloud-shaped flat clips, allowing her to pull a long eared bunny cap over it (it was black and light purple with purple eyes) and make sure it stayed out of her face. She had black opera gloves on, the fingertips missing on all but the absent thumb and index finger, the coveralls sleeves rolled up to her elbows. The legs were tucked into knee high boots with large bangles dotted with stones around the ankles, the heel cups and toes made to match. She had put the glasses on and she was shaking a bottle of fingernail polish in one hand while she undid a button of her borrowed outfit.

It was Spanner’s shocked sputtering that made her look at him. “…what…?”

“But-button your collar please!” Spanner half demanded, the image of her black bra and its lace hem already burned into the backs of his eyelids.

“…too hard to breathe…can’t move…” She admitted softly, surprising Spanner into opening his eyes again. Right…her measurements were….how could he have forgotten that?

“Ah, sorry about that. Let me find you something so you can shrug out of it, if you have to.” Spanner apologized. He had to remind himself she wasn’t becoming a woman yet, so she didn’t fully understand why he had freaked out. Yamamoto probably still took her into the bath with him, though with the warning they wouldn’t be able to do it forever.

“…sorry to be such trouble…” She mumbled as Spanner got to his feet again.

“Don’t worry, it’s no trouble at all.”


End file.
